71: Brice
Brice
Brice’s heart hammered when the rear door of the lorry opened again. He’d already seen the man thrown out, watched his body jerk as the bullets hit. And he’d watched others emerge, running behind nearby crates. Some of them made it, some didn’t. Deva wasn’t amongst them.
The last time it opened, three figures emerged. They were organised—one laid down covering fire while the other two ran, then they fired to give cover for the first. All three survived, ran behind the crate, emerged the other side and disappeared through a door.
Brice had seen figures emerge from this door, had spied the staircase beyond. Heralds, from the roof. And now, the Heralds from the lorry had joined them.
One of them carried a box, clutched it close to her chest.
But, again, none of them wa
